love is a language i'm learning (and i only know how to say hello)
by strangesmallbard
Summary: Or alternatively, the many times Emma and Regina say "I love you" without actually saying it.


A/N: A writing exercise I'm doing as I ignore my main project and get back into the writing groove. This could have one more part, or many more parts. It will be an as inspiration comes kind of ficlet series. The ficlets themselves are sort of chronological, and are brief snapshots.

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><p><em>i. turning point<em>

"Emma? It's nearly midnight, what the _hell_ are you–"

"I broke up with Hook." Emma says, and it's like there's sawdust coating her throat. That's always the feeling she gets after making a turn-right or turn-left decision. She reaches up and starts to play with her necklace–a nervous habit she almost instantly recognizes as Regina's. She moves her hand up to to the back of her neck.

"Oh." Regina says from her place by the doorframe, one hand curled around it. She gives Emma a long, slow look, like she's trying to figure out the correlation between Emma breaking up with her boyfriend and ending up at her house at an ungodly hour of the night.

"I see." She finally says and starts forward. "Do you want to talk about it?" Her gaze meets Emma's and not for the first time, Emma is struck by its unwavering intensity–and softness. She knows Regina wouldn't mind talking about it. Wouldn't mind at all.

"No." She sways a bit. "Yes. I don't know."

"Emma." Regina says again, this time steadying her with a hand on her upper arm. "Have you been drinking?" She ushers Emma inside and closes the door behind her.

"No." She laughs, more of a rasp than anything else. "Yes. Every dating book in the world probably says 'don't break up with someone after drinking.'"

"Most likely." Regina replies, and there's a hint of a smirk in the corner of her lips. Jackass. Emma almost smiles. She shakes her head.

"But the thing is, a break-up has been on the tip of my tongue for weeks now. I figured a shitty whiskey could help me out for once." She shrugs.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Regina repeats.

"I don't know why I'm here." Emma frowns. Regina begins rubbing small, soothing circles into her upper arm. It feels nice. It spreads a kind of warmth through her belly that whiskey could never have given. "I guess I can't handle Mary Margaret's questions. Or David's concerned eyes, you know, those puppy-dog ones? Then Neal would start crying. I couldn't handle–"

She clears her throat because damn. Damn that is a sob ready and waiting to break free.

"I'm sorry if I woke you. Or Henry." The soothing circles stop. Emma looks up. She hadn't even realize she'd been looking down.

"No." Regina says. "No, don't be sorry. I wasn't sleeping. And you know our son could sleep through about ten dark curses." A small smile spreads across Regina's lips, the one she only seems to give to Emma these days. Emma breathes. She might have been holding that breath ever since she left Hook's ship.

"Yeah." Emma says and she laughs and its _real_. Regina has those soft eyes again, and Emma's only had pockets of home, so few that she's not really _sure_what home feels like, if you could describe it as a warm day or a cold day, a sunrise or a sunset, but it might just be this–someone looking at you and you being able to _breathe_.

She's waiting for the urge to run, but it doesn't come.

She reaches for Regina's hand without thinking, but Regina takes it.

"Thanks." Emma says. "For not asking everything I know you want to ask. And for not saying _I told you so_."

"I wouldn't ever interfere with love that is true."

"I wasn't in love with him." Emma says quickly.

"I know." Regina's smile is sad for just a second, a different kind of sadness than Emma's ever seen. "But if you thought you were, who was I to tell you differently?"

Emma opens her mouth, and then closes it. She does something she'd probably never do without a thousand reservations if she was sober. She leans in and lightly kisses Regina on the cheek. She hears Regina's breath hitch and when she pulls back, her eyes are big. Their hands are still intertwined.

Emma's mouth parts in horror. "I'm sorry. I'm _so sorry._" Emma says. "I'll leave–"

Regina's hand tightens around hers ever so slightly. "No." Her voice is raspy. "Don't leave. Not unless you want to."

"I don't." Emma says, and she doesn't know why that causes any _run away _feelings to return.

"Good." Regina smiles. "Because tomorrow I believe Henry is having a Space Paranoids and Mario Kart marathon, and would be eager for you to join." She gives Emma a raised eyebrow.

"Only if you sober up, of course."

"Yes ma'am." Regina rolls her eyes.

"Yes, Mayor Mills?"

"Regina. _Regina Regina Regina._"

Emma squeezes her hand and smiles. "Regina."


End file.
